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“We don’t have anything!” I yank at my restraints again. “We played games together online. That doesn’t give you the right to do this!”

His expression darkens. “You felt the connection, too. Don’t lie to yourself. All those late nights, those personal conversations. The way you’d linger in the lobby after everyone else left.”

He’s right, and that’s what terrifies me most. I had felt a connection with Rogue beyond being just gaming partners. I’d imagined meeting him, fantasizing about putting a face to the voice I’d grown to care for.

But not like this.

“You could have just told me,” I say, my voice breaking. “Asked me out like a normal person.”

“And risk rejection?” He shakes his head. “No, I needed to control the variables and ensure you saw me how I wanted to be seen.”

“By kidnapping me? How is that better than rejection?”

“Because now you’re here.” His hand finds my hair, fingers threading through it possessively. “Now you can know the real me without distractions. Just us, in the environment I’ve created.”

“Ryker, please. This isn’t right.” I make my voice gentle. “If you care about me, you wouldn’t keep me tied up like this.”

Something flickers in his eyes—doubt, perhaps? It’s gone instantly.

“The restraints are temporary,” he says, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “Just until you understand the rules and accept your role in our game.”

He moves to a sleek console built into the wall. Multiple screens flicker to life, displaying security camera feeds of different rooms.

“My life has always been about games,”Rykerexplains, gesturing to the screens. “Strategy, knowing every possible move. When I found you, I knew I’d discovered the perfect ‘player two.”

He taps command, and the screens change to display a game interface with my name, health bars, and achievement trackers.

“I built this entire compound for us,” he continues, pride evident in his voice. “Every room, every level, is designed specifically for your progression. This is just the starting area—the tutorial.”

“I’ve designed specific levels,” he continues, his voice taking on that familiar cadence from our gaming sessions. “Complete the challenges, earn rewards. Fail...” He pauses, eyes darkening. “Well, let’s hope you don’t fail.”

“You can’t be serious.” I stare at the screens in horror. “You expect me to play along with this?”

“I expect you to adapt,” he corrects, returning to my bedside. “Like you always do in games. You analyze the situation, learn the mechanics, and excel. It’s what makes you such a good match for me.”

“This isn’t a game, Ryker! This is my life!”

His hand covers my mouth, cutting off my words. His eyes are cold now.

“I can do whatever I want,” he says quietly. “I’ve spent two years planning this, creating this space, designing these levels. There’s no escape. No rescue coming. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”

He removes his hand slowly. I remain silent, fear freezing the words in my throat.

“Good,” he says, nodding approvingly. “Now, let’s discuss the first level.”

He moves to release my restraints. For a brief moment, I consider attacking him. But he’s bigger, stronger, and clearly prepared. My best chance is to play along while looking for opportunities to escape.

My wrists ache as he removes the cuffs. I sit up slowly, rubbing at the raw skin.Rykerblocks the heavy metal door, his imposing figure between me and freedom.

Music fills the room—a slow, pulsing beat mocking my racing heart.

“The first challenge is simple,”Rykersays, settling into a leather chair. “Strip tease for me. Make it good, and you’ll earn experience points.”

I stare in disbelief. After everything—the kidnapping, the restraints, the years-long deception—he expects me to perform?

“And if I refuse?” My voice is steadier than I expected.

His smile doesn’t waver. “Then you lose points. Lose enough, and the penalties aren’t pleasant. But earn enough?” He gestures to a menu of “rewards” on a screen. “You can trade them for privileges. Better food. Softer restraints. Maybe even a walk outside, eventually.”